


Promptly Speaking

by acl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Prompt Fic, irregular updates, practice, prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-11-29 19:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acl/pseuds/acl
Summary: A bunch of Pharmercy prompts that may or may not be tied together.





	1. Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> So I was writing something and I realized I relied to heavily on dialogue so this fic is my practice for that I guess.

  1. Sunrise



 

Amaris always awake early. Most would consider it a side-effect from being in the military, but Fareeha considers it a lifestyle choice. If you awake early, then you spend more time living, she reasons. And if you’re living, you get to enjoy more things.

Like the sunrise, for instance.

Since Fareeha often wakes up at dawn, she’s since taken seeing the sun rise for granted. It’s become as much as a part of her routine as brushing her teeth. Fareeha’s used to waking up, showering, and then making a cup of tea to enjoy as she enjoys the sunrise for a moment of peace before the other agents awake and make life hectic. Sure, Fareeha can go two or three days without seeing the sunrise (she often has to for missions) but she’s seen it enough times that the sight has been imprinted in her mind.

But Fareeha forgot that everyone didn’t have such a simple luxury like that. Take for instance, Doctor Ziegler. The woman, for all her preaching, stays up beyond normal work hours, locked up in her office. And, if no one comes to get her, she’d stay that way for several days.

So Fareeha was glad to drag her out of the office. “You need some air.” The Egyptian attempts to justify her action as she pulls Angela towards the kitchen. The doctor looks disheveled, with bags heavy under her eyes. Fareeha wouldn’t doubt the fact that Angela hadn’t been sleeping.

“I _need_ to get to work.” Angela mumbles, but doesn’t fight back. “Fareeha.”

“Doctor, someone must take care of you if you won’t take care of yourself.” They reach the kitchen, and Fareeha sits Angela down at the island counter. “What kind of tea do you like?”

“I don’t drink tea.”

“Green it is.” They spend the minutes it takes for the tea to brew in silence, Fareeha aware of the anger radiating off of the doctor. It wasn’t so bad, as Angela’s weariness was hindering her ability to properly glare. Fareeha pours the tea into two containers once finished, hands one to the doctor, and leads her to the roof.

“Honestly, Fareeha. I don’t know why you’re doing this.” Angela says, sipping the tea hesitantly as they climb a staircase. Fareeha smiles softly at the doctor.

“You,” She points to the blond, “need to live.”

“I am living. Look. I’m breathing.” Angela snaps back. “I have work to do. Why would you— “Fareeha stops her by putting a finger to her lips.

“Shh. Yell at me later. Come on.” They had reached the top floor, a small platform for them to walk on awaiting. Fareeha walks over to a dark grey door and opens it, stepping out onto the roof. She holds the door open for Angela, who steps through. It’s chilly and dark outside, and Fareeha sips her tea. “Like the view?”

The view in question was of the ocean, which was dark and murky. Although by turning slightly to the left, one could see Spain, and the outlines of cities and mountains.

“It’s not too bad.” Angela murmurs. Fareeha smiles, and then walks to the edge of the roof, sitting over the sides. Fareeha motions for Angela to follow, which she does.

“I come here every morning.”

“Why?” The doctor asks, sitting next to the soldier. Fareeha shrugs slightly.

“I guess I just want to appreciate the little things in life.”

“Little things? Like what?” Fareeha sips her tea, and then looks around. In the corner of her eye, she can see a light arising.

“Like that. The sunrise.” She points to it, and Angela’s eyes follow. Fareeha hears a light gasp, and suddenly there is silence as Angela absorbs the rising sun, and the multitude of yellows, reds, and purples it brings with it.

And even though Fareeha takes the sunrise for granted now, she doesn’t believe she would ever do the same to the appreciative look Angela gives her after they leave the roof.


	2. Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23\. Heartbeat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo i wrote this in like ???? 15??? 20??? 25???? minutes and I had J-Rock on the ENTIRE time like whats up with me
> 
> since this fic is entirely for practice and fun quality for every chapter shouldnt really be expected? like it's like all experimental and I really went that route with this chapter, I was doing something new and playing around with concepts and styles I've never really played with
> 
> despite all that talk this isn't some deep chapter, its only like 600 words but everything in this is just me getting out of my comfort zone with writing and putting it out there that YEA I CAN DO THIS!!!!! actually I felt somewhat awkward writing this chapter so if anything seems out of it because of it, let's attribute it to that fact. 
> 
> that being said enjoy (or if you don't leave a comment why you didn't enjoy it?)

  1. Heartbeat



Angela spent many stressful years studying to become a doctor. From that frail age of 11, when her parents died, Angela had dedicated her entire life to doing so. She had to become a doctor. She had to study. She had to learn.

She had to save.

(And, of course she must save. It is her one way of making it up to her parents, to atone for her sin of letting what happened to Gabriel and Jack occur. She must save, she must bring mercy to those suffering. That is her burden.)

Of course, over the course of those few years of pre-med, medical school, residency, and beyond, Angela had become quite familiar with the sound of a human heartbeat. The slow, rhythmic thumping was more than just something to listen to in an ASMR video to her; it was a sign that someone was alive, that she had succeeded in her life mission. By default, Angela knew: the normal resting rate for an adult was between 60 and 100 beats a minute, an athletic person can have a resting rate of 40 beats per minute, a toddler should have a rate of 80 to 110 beats per minute.

However.

(And there’s always an ‘however’ with Angela. There is always a ‘but’, or a ‘yet.’ Nothing is straightforward to her, nothing is set. There must be something to contradict, to conflict. It is a rule of life, to her. If there is not this, then it is not valid.)

However, meeting Fareeha Amari (again) changes this. Whether it is for the good, or the bad, Angela does not know. Because when she gives Fareeha her initial check-up after reluctantly accepting the recall, these things change:

  1. Angela suddenly becomes aware that an athletic person can have a resting rate of 32 beats per minute and function perfectly, which should not be healthy but somehow is.
  2. Angela becomes aware that a heartbeat does not just have to be a signal of life. It may also be a signal of attraction, although she is not really sure if the heartbeat gave it away, or the coy glances Fareeha snuck her way.
  3. Angela also becomes aware that her own heartbeat is there, and it exists. And it sped up suddenly, upon making eye contact with Fareeha initially.



And it is almost as though her world changes with these realizations.

(And indeed, it does, as Fareeha is her last check-up of the new recruits, opening the door to new friends, new opportunities, and a chance to restart. And she does restart.)

Now, for Angela, heartbeats aren’t a symbol of life. Heartbeats are what she feels when she walks into the kitchen late at night after a nightmare and sees Fareeha standing at the counter, drinking tea. Heartbeats are what she feels when she wakes up from her accidental sleep at her desk, and finds herself covered in blankets with food nearby---an act only a certain Egyptian would do.

Heartbeats are eternal now. They speed up when Fareeha comes near, and slow down so much it’s painful when she leaves. They make her ache, ache so much for the soldier. They make her do stupid, irrational things she would never do if the chemicals weren’t pumping through her blood stream—like write love letters (yes, love letters) to Fareeha telling her about her day, or rearranging her schedule so she can see Fareeha at every opportunity.

Before heartbeats were distant---a symbol, a status, an association.

Now they are a feeling, and Angela is very content. 


	3. 22. low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha is a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok tbh for a fic labeled "Irregular updates" i sure am updating regularly.   
> i didnt expect to put this one up so quickly, I had another prompt i was working on before this one but I got stuck on it :/ That prompt is attached to the one from last chapter, but this one is just a "hurr durr acl lets write about this because you're emo and it's relatable and yeah."   
> this one is another experimental one, playing around with themes and concepts. If you guys get confused about it, don't worry. it's not supposed to be clear.   
> there was supposed to be obvious pharmercy in this one but i had to cut it to keep the vibe of the prompt. you have to sacrifice some things to make others work (or not work?) i guess.
> 
> this prompt is brought to you by "Behind Blue Eyes" by Limp Bizkit. Probably should have listened to Linkin Park for this prompt but who cares its done. enjoy (and if you don't, maybe leave a comment explaining why?)

  1. low



            Fingertips gripped the ceramic sink so hard that the brown skin lightened to a discolored pink. With any rational mind, the concern would be on not breaking the sink. But Fareeha didn’t have a “rational mind” right now. Not when she was shaking and struggling to breathe.

            “ _Calm down._ ” It’s like the voice of her mother was engrained in her mind, and Ana was speaking to her. “ _You’ll be fine_.”

            “…” Fareeha becomes aware of her mouth moving as she views herself in the mirror above the sink (or at least the being that should be her) but she can’t hear anything. Frustrated, she grips the sink tighter, feeling the pressing of the cold ceramic in her hands as it comes in closer and closer and it chills her it’s cold but she can feel it she can feel the ceramic---

            She can feel the ceramic.

            She can feel the ceramic.

            _She can feel the ceramic._

            The sink shatters, collapsing into what seems to be millions of pieces to her as she realizes. She’s alive. She’s alive.

            And now she’s screaming.

            “WHY? WHY?” Every time she says that one syllable word, it comes out as a roar as Fareeha stares at herself in the mirror---hair ruffled and a mess, skin obviously dirty. The bags under her eyes that carried the weight of defeat. She hates it. She hates it.

            “WHY ME?!” She bellows outrageously, throwing the pieces of ceramic gripped into her hands at the wall. They shatter too, a piercing sound in the air that causes Fareeha to pause. Pause, huffing and puffing, looking at herself in the mirror.

            But she doesn’t see herself. She sees the faces (yes numerous faces) of all of the Haitian civilians she could have saved--- _should_ have saved---from Talon’s attack. The tired and weary smiles of the children, the destroyed and desecrated faces of the adults who had lain in front of Fareeha, lifeless in a ghostly agony that they felt upon their last moments.

            She should have done _something_.

            Now the mirror is smashed, but Fareeha keeps punching. Alternating between jab and cross, leaving dents in the wood because the glass has either imbedded itself in her fists or fallen to the ground.

            _How could she have let this happen?_

            And Fareeha doesn’t even notice someone enter until they cry out her name and hold her arms back from continuing their assault. She focuses slightly and can see it’s Angela, standing there in horror as she overlooks Fareeha. And suddenly Fareeha is ashamed. She feels exposed, like a disgrace. “Now the world can see me for what I am…” she mutters.

            “What? Fareeha, what’s wrong with you?” The doctor’s calm tone is betrayed by the urgency that lay in her eyes---her beautiful, blue eyes. Fareeha can’t look away, overcome suddenly by attraction.

            Suddenly she’s repulsed.

            Fareeha’s repulsed, and she has to turn away she wants to puke she has to throw up throw up and let this rotten behavior out get it out get it out get it out get it---

            “Fareeha?!” Angela grabs her face gently, and turns her around, checking her out. Fareeha wants to push her away, but she doesn’t want to dirty her nice blouse with the blood on her hands. Her eyes travel down to her hands. They’re bleeding all over, blood dripping down them. She can see bits of glass inside cuts, deep inside.

            Why are they there?

            What’s wrong with her?

            “A monster…”

            “Fareeha, I need to get you to my—“

            “Angela, I’m a monster…” The room is closing in on her, and now she can’t breathe again. She’s shaking and shaking, dizziness overtaking her. She stumbles backwards and lands against a wall, falling down to the cold floor.

            The cold floor.

            The cold floor that she can feel, vividly.

            She’s alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to be clear, this was a bit of an exploration of Fareeha's identity (might not seem that way but oops.) I think I have another prompt topic that will allow me to delve into this more, but Fareeha suffers from Hero Complex in this prompt. Most people know Hero Complex as "I need to be the hero so I'm going to start a fire so I can save everyone and get glory" but there's actually different kinds of them. Fareeha has the "I need to be the hero because I need to save everyone" type of complex. I'll probably explain more about this later, but basically in this prompt she failed to save a town in Haiti from Talon's attack and everyone went DX and now she's beating herself up for it. I could have went so much farther with this but I didn't because 1) I have to wake up hella early tomorrow and 2) I can always do it in another prompt. 
> 
> okay thanks for reading.


	4. 1. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this has something to do with letters?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow man the best part about tagging irregular updates is no one is expecting an update. am i going to update? did i abandon this ? no one knowwsssssssssss
> 
> lol but a lot's been happening, been focusing on stuff yknow? and like, i dont want to say writing completely disappeared from me but: 1. i havent even been reading pharmercy for the past like month lol and 2. i'm not a writer totally not gonna claim im one. but the whole point in bringing that up is to say that i initially started writing this prompt when i was writing the other 3. chaps 1 2 and 3 were binge written, then i started on this one as a continuation of something mentioned in chap 2, hit some writers block, wrote diff prompts, still got blocked so i was like fuck it yknow? 
> 
> i only finished this one bc my nephew is taking up my bed so i cant sleep and today i'm being particularly impulsive so i was like "yo remember that one fic?" "oh hell nah we really doing this?" "o shit lets post it." In fact there's a notable decrease in writing prose and all that shit bc i finished it in 10 mins. u can probably tell where i stopped writing and where i picked it back up.
> 
> o well. this entire note is probably longer than the actual prompt so lets get it lol
> 
> ps thanks to the discord fam yall know who yall r

Month 1

_Good evening Angela,_

_How was your day? I hope you were able to finish that one experiment you were conducting with desirable results. You know, the one about conducting electrons through the use of your nanobots to empower someone? Or at least, that’s what I think you’re doing. I’m not the Nano scientist._

_Speaking of, how are your experiments going? You have so many going on at a time, how can you even keep track of them all? There’s the one that rides on neuron extraction, and the other one you’re working on with Torbjorn. On that note---Really? An experiment with Torbjorn? I’ve been begging you for months and you still won’t even consider letting me hypothesize about possibilities!_

_Hey, you should remember to eat, too. I’ll come by around 20:00. If you haven’t eating I’m dragging you to dinner. Hanzo and Genji are making sushi. It’s bound to be good. Somehow Ninja-Bot and Left Tiddie are excellent cooks despite being pampered all their lives._

_You know, I have a question for you. If you could go back in time, what would you change, if you could? It’s a random question, but I feel like you’d have the most interesting response to it._

_I think that’s all I have to say for this letter._

_Fareeha._

*

_Good morning Fareeha._

_Despite the fact that you interrupted from my research time (I know I appear to be disorganized, but that’s simply not true. I have a schedule of sorts.) I do appreciate you “dragging” me to dinner. Hanzo and Genji cooked exceptionally, a trait I never knew the brothers shared. Thank you dearly for caring for me, but please. Never do that again._

_And it isn’t “Left Tiddie” and “Ninja-bot.” Don’t call them that again, only Ana has that privilege._

_I’m  a bit surprised you’re interested in my experiments, not many people are. They say it’s complicated. If you must know, the status of the Electron Transferal for Empowerment (ETE) Experiment has been deemed a laboratorial success. I now need to test it on one of the members of Overwatch (possibly Jamison, maybe Reinhardt) to see if it will properly function in battle. Normally I’d be against finding methods to ensure more damage than necessary. In fact, even while working on the ETE experiment, I’ve felt tugs of discomfort. I’m always questioning:_

_Is this right?_

_Should I be doing this?_

_Why am I doing this?_

_It’s funny, most people believe I’m a doctor stressed out about finishing my experiments so I can mass-produce successful methods of helping people. Unfortunately for them, most of the process of experimenting is consumed with moral debates such as this. It’s not as easy, nor as simple as it seems._

_On that note, I won’t work with you in an experiment. What could you want me to do, if not to power up the Raptora in some way? I cannot clearly endorse that Fareeha. My moral conscience won’t allow me._

_To answer your question, I wouldn’t change a thing. Have you heard of the Butterfly Effect? If not, it is the idea that even something so small and insignificant as the flap of a butterfly’s wings can lead to huge changes. Experiences have made us who we are, Fareeha. Why should we change them?_

_It’ll be early morning when I deliver this letter to you, so I should say good luck on your ventures for the day. Make sure you do proper stretches._

_Angela._

Month 3

_Good Evening Angela._

_What would you like me to make you for dinner? You can text it to me so I don’t get the reply late._

_Letters are so outdated and old, why do we still use them? We have many more effective ways of communicating, yet our favorite one happens to be through letters._

_You looked so beautiful today during the banquet. I could tell you didn’t want to be there, but you still went and stole the show away. I wasn’t the only one of your admirers. There had to have been at least 50 others staring at you like hounds. It would have been a comical sight if I weren’t one of the people watching you._

_After the banquet, I had to meet with numerous officials to make amicable relations between Overwatch and other offices. It was so boring Angela. “Hello x, it’s a pleasure to meet you. At Overwatch, we look toward your facility as a for guide us to…” Imagine repeating that over and over and over and over. At least you managed get out of the banquet with the excuse of having work to do. It’s not as easy for Strike Team Captain to do that._

_Do you think I’ll get a promotion? Tracer thinks I will. I don’t think so, though. I’m not really sure if I **want** a promotion. Don’t get me wrong, I see the benefits of it, but I’m also forced to see numerous flaws. What if the promotion isn’t worth the pay increase? At Helix, I met many people forced into desk jobs from their previous field positions by way of “promotions.” I don’t think I want that for me. _

_I’ll see you soon._

_Fareeha_

*****

**** _Good morning Fareeha,_

_Thank you for the food you made me. It was delicious. Jamison came in here and snuck some from me. He thinks I don’t know, but I can’t wait to confront him about it._

_I personally like the letters a lot! You have no idea the relief it provides me when I’m overstressed. It’s also a lot easier to just…talk to a letter. Does that make any sense?_

_You flatter me with your compliments. I’ve told you everything you needed to hear last night, but I’ll repeat it so you can have an eternal copy for yourself: you appeared so dashing tonight. Many younger women and men must have been intimidated by you. I think you’re charming. Along those lines…halfway through writing that out, I realized I didn’t want to inflate your ego anymore, so I just gave up. X) so shoot me why don’t you? And wow, talking to people must be so hard. It seems terrible that you were subjected to that inhumane treatment of repeating the same thing over and over and over! A lot worse than anything I’ve ever done!_

_I don’t think you should worry too much about promotions. I also don’t think you should compare Helix and Overwatch. Helix let Doomfist roam free. Overwatch took him down. I think, in terms of promotions, and where you’ll go…you’ll be fine. You’ll learn a lot and make mistakes, so don’t upset yourself over how you may do it. If you earn the promotion, you **do** have the ability to turn it down. _

_I think, for once, I’ll sleep early. So I’ll deliver this early as a result._

_Angela._

_*_

Month 6

            _Angela,_

_“May you sleep on your tender girlfriend’s breast.”_

_\---Sappho fragment 80_

_Fareeha_

*

_Fareeha,_

_If you want to fuck me just come into my room and do it._

_Angela_

*

_Angela,_

_Open the door_

_-F_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol at some point in the last 10 mins i was like "lemme pour one out for my homie sappho" and thats how that happened 
> 
> yea see ya'll in like ... 3 months lol
> 
> geez im tired


End file.
